Fever
by Laura Mayfair
Summary: Andy needs some TLC and Sharon delivers. Fluff, fluff...and look - more fluff! Rated T. In 2 parts. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Sharon/ Andy fluff. AU carried over from my other stories (In chronological order: As Time Goes By, What the Heart Wants, Toward a Secret Sky.) This pretty much can stand on its own though. **

**Fever  
****Part 1 of 2  
**

Sharon tiptoed in after midnight, slipping her shoes off at the door and turning on the light switch with the dimmer. The house felt cool so she hurried down the hallway to turn the thermostat up, giving her arms a vigorous rub to generate some heat. She entered the bedroom slowly and quietly, not wanting to wake up Andy. She placed her purse on the chaise lounge in the corner, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light; it was only a moment later, after she had removed her glasses and given her tired eyes a rub, that she noticed that their bed was empty.

She slipped down the hall and saw the light of a television flickering from underneath the door of Rusty's room. She knocked gently.

"Come in."

Rusty was sitting up on his bed with a bowl of popcorn, crunching merrily. A quick glance at the screen showed Frodo and Sam trekking through the wilderness as they followed Gollum who called to them from ahead.

"Fellowship of the Ring?" asked Sharon.

"The Two Towers." Rusty offered her the bowl of popcorn. Sharon shook her head. "You wanna watch it with me?" he coaxed.

"Oh, Rusty, I'm exhausted. Can I take a rain check?"

"Of course." Sharon noticed that Rusty was wrapped up like a mummy in a couple of blankets.

"Who cranked the AC?" she asked, suppressing a shiver. "It's freezing in here."

Rusty shrugged. "Andy was hot."

"Mmmm," hummed Sharon thoughtfully. "Where is he, anyway?"

"In the den last I saw. He was waiting up for you. Everything okay, Sharon?"

Sharon smiled absently. "Long night." She didn't mention the double homicide that she'd just spent the last nine hours investigating. She bent down and picked up a stray sock that was peeking out from under Rusty's bed and tossed it into the hamper in the closet. "Need anything before I head to bed?"

"I'm good," Rusty grinned. "Night, Sharon. I'll be up a while yet if you change your mind."

"Okay. Goodnight, honey." Sharon left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Sharon traveled back through the hall and walked down the steps of their split level home to the den where she found her missing husband. He was sound asleep on the couch with a book opened face down resting on his abdomen. She looked at him for a moment or two with a telling fondness, before sliding the palm of her hand against his chest.

"Andy," she called softly.

Andy made an unintelligible sound as his eyes opened slowly. "Hi," he offered finally, blinking a few times. He sat up gradually. "What time is it?"

"12:30." Sharon sat down on the edge of the sofa near him, leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I told you not to wait up for me." She had expressly told him that she would be late tonight and that he shouldn't wait up.

Andy shrugged. "Yeah, well….when has that ever stopped me?"

Sharon smiled at him and he felt that smile everywhere; it flooded him. Her voice was warm. "Come to bed?" She captured his hand in hers and drew him toward her. They walked a leisurely pace hand in hand toward the bedroom, stopping at intervals to kiss one another as they giggled like two teenagers. In the kitchen, Andy spontaneously grabbed her around the waist and gave her a long, slow kiss. Sharon wound her arms around her husband's neck which gave him even better access to her waist. He brought her closer and was just sliding his hands along the contours of her rib cage when she abruptly pulled away.

"Andy – you're burning up."

It didn't register through the burgeoning haze of desire. He bent down to kiss her again but she placed a restraining hand against his chest. Andy stopped.

Sharon touched his temple with the back of her hand. "You have a fever."

"I feel fine," Andy assured her. "I'm a little warm but that's entirely your fault." He reached for her again but she slipped past him. Andy _did_ feel pretty tired, although he didn't want to admit it. But his body had been waking up. Definitely waking up, he mused, as he watched his wife continue her single-minded march to the bedroom.

"Sit down," Sharon ordered as soon as they passed the threshold to their room.

Andy sighed and sat down on the bed while she walked past him. "It's like sixty degrees in here, you know," called Sharon from the bathroom that adjoined their bedroom.

"Come over here and I'll warm you up," Andy promised.

Sharon emerged from the bathroom holding a thermometer. "Under your tongue," she ordered, slipping it efficiently in between his lips before he could protest.

"I could take that so many different ways," he told her mischievously.

"Stop talking," ordered Sharon. She disappeared again into the bathroom. Andy could hear her rustling around. His head ached with a dull but persistent pain and he felt the first twinge of a chill. With a dash of male pride, he squared his shoulders, determined not to give in to the supposed ailment. Andy popped the thermometer out of his mouth in an act of petulant rebellion, giving it a vigorous shake before putting it back between his lips.

When Sharon returned to his side a couple of minutes later he was the picture of innocence. She plucked the thermometer out of his mouth and read it silently.

"You're right," she told him with an exasperated sigh. "You _don't_ have a fever."

"See?" said Andy triumphantly, patting the space next to him in invitation.

"In fact, you don't even have a temperature!" She brought the thermometer back to his lips. "Now _leave_ it there."

"I'm not sick," Andy mumbled in between closed lips. He certainly wasn't going to admit it to her, especially not after he'd made such a big fuss about being fine.

"I've raised two children, Andrew. I know what a fever looks and feels like," she snapped.

"Maybe you should feel me again, just to be sure," he teased.

Sharon wasn't amused. Andy watched her glance at her watch before hastily unbuttoning her blouse and shimmying out of her skirt. And he felt like he was witnessing a Greek tragedy when she pulled on a pair of silk pajamas rather than the short and slinky something that he'd hoped to get her in…and out of tonight. She pulled the thermometer out of his mouth.

"100.8," she read.

"So?"

"So…you're going to bed."

Andy grinned at her. "Well, sweetheart, that was the plan – "

"To _sleep_. People with fevers need to rest."

"Maybe your thermometer is wrong. Did you calibrate it? That thing's a dinosaur. I think you need to update your equipment."

"Mercury thermometers are actually quite accurate, even more so than the new digital models."

"Sharon –"

But she had already headed back to the bathroom. He listened to her open and close the medicine cabinet and run the water.

"By the time I get back out there, you'd better be in bed," cautioned Sharon.

Andy heaved a long sigh. Clearly, any plans to seduce his wife had just flown out the window just because some silly microorganism had decided to invade his body. He didn't even feel that bad, a little headache – a little warm, maybe, and somewhat tired. But not _that _tired. Grumbling to himself, he took off his shirt and climbed into bed.

Sharon emerged from the bathroom a couple of minutes later and handed him a cup of water and two Tylenol. Andy sighed dramatically, purely for her benefit, and took the pills. Sharon walked over to her side of the bed and slipped under the covers before leaning over and turning off the lamp.

"I really don't feel that bad – "

"Goodnight, Andy."

"Just saying…"

"Mmmmmm, we'll see how you are in the morning." The finality in her voice certainly wasn't promising. He felt her shift and roll over to face the opposite way.

"Spousal neglect," Andy murmured at the ceiling.

Sharon snorted and the sound was followed by her soft laughter. Andy chuckled right along with her until they were both giggling, completely sharing the humor of the moment. He felt her shift again and this time he felt the quick press of her lips against his shoulder.

"Seriously, Andy, get some rest."

"Not exactly having restful thoughts over here."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'm not either."

Andy expelled a frustrated puff of air. "Not helping, Sharon." He was quiet for a moment. "So uh…just for the record, what thoughts, exactly, are you having? Be specific."

"Goodnight, Andy," laughed Sharon.

Andy sighed and closed his eyes, giving in at last to the undeniable fact that, despite all of his efforts, he really did feel pretty damned worn out all of a sudden. Sleep came fast. Somewhere in the middle of the night, he went from being terribly hot to terribly cold, grabbing at the blankets and burrowing under them. In some remote part of his consciousness he realized that the headache was gone but his entire body seemed like one giant ache. He woke up at a little before 5 AM when the sun was just beginning to make its ascent – before the light had really touched the horizon.

Through heavy eyes, he made out the form of his wife lying next to him, curled up – oddly enough – in a little ball. He realized, then, that he had snatched all of the blankets and was sweating profusely. He stood up shakily and stumbled over to the closet, leaning up to grab a blanket which he draped over Sharon, before shuffling into the bathroom. He turned the water on and took a lukewarm shower. He dried off and slipped on a fresh pair of boxers and padded back into the bedroom.

Sharon was sitting up in bed. "How are you feeling?"

Andy sank ungracefully into bed. "Lousy. But I think my fever broke. I woke up in a pool of sweat."

Sharon leaned over and kissed his forehead; her lips lingered as she gauged his temperature. "You do feel cooler. That's good. But you should stay home and rest today."

Andy didn't argue. Since he hadn't fallen back asleep yet, Sharon set him up temporarily on the chaise lounge so that she could change the sheets on the bed. She brought him a couple of slices of toast with a little bit of strawberry jam and a cup of tea. He ate one piece of toast half-heartedly and took the Tylenol that she gave him without complaint. He was grateful for the cool sheets when Sharon had him re-installed in bed with the TV remote by his side on the nightstand. She also made sure that he had a glass of water and a box of tissues.

"Can I get you anything on the way home from work?" she asked softly. "I'll be home early."

"My throat hurts," croaked Andy. "Popsicles?"

"Of course." Sharon smiled. She bent down to kiss Andy goodbye but he held up a halting hand.

Sharon tipped her head to the side, amused. "Last night you couldn't keep your hands off me and this morning I don't even warrant a kiss?"

"I don't want to give you malaria."

"You don't have malaria," Sharon scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Feels like it," moaned Andy miserably.

"Anyway, I don't get sick," explained Sharon as she meticulously and efficiently rearranged his pillows, settling him into a more comfortable position. "And I've already been exposed to whatever you have so…" she shrugged. "I'm not really worried." She gave him a light kiss. "I'll stop by EPEU on my way to Major Crimes and let Tom know you won't be in."

"Okay."

"Take another round of Tylenol at 10:00. Call me if you need anything."

"Okay."

"Feel better, Lieutenant. That's an order." She caressed his shoulder.

"Aye, aye, Captain," answered Andy wearily as he sunk back into his pillows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:**** Part 2 of 2. I warned you….no point…..just fluff! Thanks for reading.**

**Fever (Part 2)**

Andy couldn't get comfortable no matter how hard he tried; the congestion in his head made the simple act of breathing a nightmare and he finally gave up trying to go back to sleep. After slipping on his pajamas, he moped down into the den with his glass of water, a couple of pillows, and a blanket, and bunkered down on the sofa. He finally got settled and realized that he'd neglected to bring a box of tissues with him so he got back up - despite the aching protests of his weary body. He plodded into the bathroom to grab the box of tissues along with the small wastepaper basket to deposit the used ones. His throat felt scratchy and swollen while every muscle in his body seemed to ache. Truly, he couldn't remember the last time that he had felt so completely miserable.

He finally fell asleep around ten o' clock but Rusty, who was heading to his part time summer job at the bank, didn't realize that Andy was home sick. Andy heard the door shut as Rusty left for work and it was just enough noise to jostle him out of his tenuous sleep. The chills had started up again, Andy realized, burrowing further under his blanket. He remembered Sharon having told him to take more Tylenol at ten but he couldn't bring himself to leave the warmth of the sofa. Eventually, he fell into a fever-tossed sleep and didn't wake up for another two and a half hours.

It was after noon by then and Andy still felt weak and achy. It was difficult to pull himself out of sleep but he knew he really did need to get upstairs to take another round of Tylenol. He rose slowly and made his way up to their bedroom, glancing at the TV clock as he passed by. It was after noon time. He was surprised that he hadn't heard from Sharon.

After taking the Tylenol, Andy puttered back downstairs, cell phone in hand, and speed dialed his wife.

She picked up on the first ring. He swore he could hear Provenza talking loudly and rapidly in the background.

"Hi, Andy," said Sharon. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," rasped Andy.

"Awwww, honey, you don't sound like you feel very good."

"Not, really," admitted Andy.

"I would have called earlier but I was afraid I'd wake you. I'm just finishing up here. I'm going to stop at the store on the way home. I'll bring you some lunch and pick up a few things, okay?"

"Okay."

"Did you take your Tylenol?"

"Yeah."

"Besides the Popsicles, did you think of anything else that you'd like to have?"

He sneezed.. "Nah." The shrill voice of a woman called out in the background for Captain Raydor. Andy knew that voice.

"Rios at it again?" he asked sympathetically.

"You could say that," said Sharon as she eyed the dark haired woman warily. "Listen, Andy, I'm going to let you go," said Sharon, her voice uncharacteristically rushed. "The sooner I finish up here, the sooner I can get home."

"Okay."

It was quarter to two when Sharon finally came in, arms full of bundles. She darted around quickly, putting things away and lining up the medicines that she'd picked up for Andy.

"Andy?" she called.

"In the den."

She found her husband lying on the couch propped up with half the pillows in the house and enmeshed in a cocoon of blankets. He was watching _Sponge Bob_. Sharon glanced at the TV and then at him. She smiled. "In the mood for some nautical merriment?"

"Something like that. It cheers me up." He offered a weak smile.

Sharon leaned over and pressed her mouth to his forehead, her lips lingering there for a few seconds. "Still a little warm," she frowned.

"I slept through the ten o' clock dose of Tylenol," he confessed. She could hear the stuffiness in his voice. "I took it when you called."

Sharon nodded. "I brought you chicken soup for lunch, unless you want something else. I'll make you anything you want."

"Soup is good."

"You feel up to eating in the kitchen or shall I bring everything in here?" asked Sharon solicitously as she ran her fingers through his hair. Andy closed his eyes.

"I'll come in there."

"Okay….I'll just be a couple of minutes." Sharon smoothed his blanket before disappearing into the kitchen.

After the soup, Sharon gave Andy some Mucinex to help with the congestion, some Riccola throat syrup for his sore throat, and a Popsicle. She straightened his pillows, made his blanket neater as she covered him up, and managed to get him feeling much more comfortable than he had felt earlier.

She looked lovely in her white linen jacket and skirt with the mint colored blouse underneath. Sharon was always so elegant and impeccably put together, a feat Andy sometimes wondered how she managed - considering the long hours that Major Crimes often demanded. But as she bent down to pick up his Popsicle stick and empty paper wrapping, Andy could see that she looked tired. He reached for her wrist.

"How was your day, Shar? You were up late last night and I could hear Rios screeching at you in the background when you called earlier. Tough day?"

"Long day," sighed Sharon, "Even though it was technically a half day."

"Come here," said Andy, and he pulled Sharon down onto the sofa beside him. She slipped her shoes off and settled in next to him, resting her head against his shoulder. "So," he said, in a voice still gravelly from his cold, "you want to tell me what super-hero power of yours makes you immune to sickness or is that a trade secret?"

Sharon laughed, despite herself. "Promise not to tell my evil nemesis? I'm not immune. I had a lot of sinus infections and colds in my early twenties and I think I just built up my immune system over time. I do get sick but, luckily, it's rare. And aside from that, we were all over one another before you came down with…what was it…malaria?" Andy smirked and Sharon continued. "So there's no real practical reason for me to quarantine myself."

Andy was quiet for a moment. "You have to go back to work?"

Sharon shook her head no and he felt the motion against his shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze and rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. "Good," he said softly into her fragrant hair. "You know what I really want?"

Sharon tipped her head up to face him; they were nearly nose to nose. "What?"

Andy gazed at her earnestly. "A nap. With you. How 'bout it? You and me. Upstairs. When do we ever get a chance to do that? I have it on good authority that some bed rest with you will hasten my recovery." He stroked her arm, looking into her face. "You look tired, baby."

"I am," she admitted softly. She hesitated for a moment. A myriad of things that she needed to get done fluttered through her head and then melted away. She stifled a yawn. "All right…. I'll take you up on that nap."

They spent their afternoon in bed, cozy and comfortable – cell phones off, happily wrapped up and cuddling under the blankets. Sharon woke up first; she was a light sleeper by nature and she thought she heard Rusty coming in. She slipped on a pair of jeans and a cotton button down top and headed downstairs, careful not to wake Andy.

"Hey, Sharon," said Rusty. His expression brightened when he saw her. "You're home early."

"I took the afternoon off," she explained. "Andy's under the weather. How are _you_ feeling?"

"I feel fine."

Sharon smiled. "Good."

"I'm getting together with a couple of friends to see a movie but I shouldn't be too late." Rusty slipped on a light jacket. It looked like it might rain. "What are your plans tonight, Sharon?"

Sharon looked up toward the stairs and then back down at Rusty. "Taking care of my patient."

"Sounds like a full time job," laughed Rusty.

Sharon smiled. "It is. You have fun, honey."

"I made you a sandwich," Rusty added as he headed toward the door. "In the fridge…bye!"

Sharon did a couple of loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and looked through some paperwork that she had brought home from work. By that time it was a little after eight. She straightened the living room and rearranged the items in her brief case, putting everything away neatly. She glanced at her watch and decided that it was time to head upstairs to check on Andy. She grabbed his medicines and poured a glass of Nantucket Nectar plum juice – Andy's favorite – into one of his sports glasses.

When she arrived upstairs, he was laying on his side, breathing quietly. He still sounded a little congested but she was glad to see that he had finally gotten some rest. She put the glass on the nightstand next to him.

"Andy," she said softly. She waited a moment. "Andy," she said again.

"Mmmmm." He gave a quiet groan and slowly opened his eyes.

"I hate to wake you," she apologized, "but we should stay ahead of your cold." She handed him his pills and gave him the glass of juice. Andy sat up halfway and downed the beverage and the medicine. Sharon took the glass and placed it back on the nightstand. She touched his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"I think you're just looking for an excuse to feel me again." said Andy roguishly with that little sideways smile of his.

Sharon's eyes sparkled. "Oh, now I know you're feeling better."

"A little better. But I think I still need extra attention."

"Mmmm, we'll see."

"Thanks for all the TLC, Shar. I mean it. And as soon as I'm back to normal I'll show my appreciation," he flirted.

"Really? That sounds promising."

Andy loved the fact that he could still make her blush. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

Maybe being sick, Andy reflected, wasn't so terrible after all.


End file.
